Caught on Camera (18 page)

Dark eyes took him in as he scanned over every inch of her. She was simply magnificent.

He lifted a hand to the hair pinned at the back of her head. “Can I?” he asked. He wanted to get his fingers in that dark mass in the worst possible way. He could make out captured curls just dying to spring free.

Her slim throat moved with a swallow before she once again glanced away. “I’d rather not.”

His chest deflated. He nodded. “Okay. We’ll wait. How about a massage then?”

Her gaze shot up to meet his in the mirror. “A massage?”

She thought he meant one he’d give to her, he could read it on her face. And even better, he could see that she wasn’t settled on giving him a definite no. He intended to show her a perfect day, though, and although touching her at ten o’clock in the morning might make for a very
good
day, it wouldn’t do anything toward ensuring she saw and experienced all Anguilla had to offer.

“On the beach.” He nodded toward the open door as he spoke, fighting to get the words to come out without sounding like a teenager going out on his first date. “I’ve arranged a private massage on the beach for both of us to start off the morning. Sound okay?”

Dark eyes melted, and he knew he’d struck gold. Now if only the rest of the day would go so well.

They grabbed their hats and sunglasses and made their way through the flowered landscape to the tables awaiting them at the edge of the water. When she climbed aboard and lay prone on her stomach, then reached behind her to untie the strip of white holding her breasts out of sight, he was certain his knees would forget how to work.

Without another word, he lay on his own table in the same position, pulling his T-shirt over his head before settling down, and buried his face in the headrest. Having Vega less than ten feet from him with no top on was going to be the death of him.

Desperate to think about something other than the bare side curves of her breasts, he grabbed for the first thing that came to mind. “Tell me about your childhood. What was your mother like?”

What was your mother like?

Since when did he ask a woman anything about her mother? Such questions would only lead to similar ones directed back at him. The last thing he wanted was to be caught whining about how he’d often wished his mother was around for him more instead of out playing politics with his father. What a pansy.

The masseuse began on his shoulders, and he pulled in deep breaths as he focused on relaxing, while Vega remained silent to his right. Unable to keep from looking at her any longer, he turned in her direction and was instantly sucked into the beauty that lay across from him. She lay facing him, her hat and glasses tossed to the ground, her eyelashes resting upon her cheeks, and her dark hair the perfect complement to her skin. She might try to downplay her looks on the job, but the woman was beautiful. She topped anyone he’d ever gone out with.

“My mother is a good woman,” she finally said, keeping her eyes closed as the masseuse worked over her bare back. Hands swooped down to the curve of a very nice rear, and JP had a hell of a time pulling his eyes from the dip in the small of her back.

The hands on him pressed hard into a knot in the top of his shoulder, and he once again forced himself to breathe, easing the tension from his body. Staring at Vega’s near-nakedness was doing nothing to help him relax.

“She would have never been caught not working hard when I was growing up,” Vega continued. “And from what I understand, she keeps the same habit today. She’s honorable and proud, and I only hope to someday have her see the same in me.”

He couldn’t imagine her mother not being blown away with the daughter she’d raised. “You don’t visit often?”

Longing drifted through her eyes as her lashes lifted, and he held an almost desperate wish to be close enough to reach out and touch her.

“A couple times a year,” she finally said. “But that’s not enough. She lives in a small village in Mexico, and I can’t get away to visit as often as I’d like.”

“Did you grow up there?”

She shook her head. “No. We lived in Texas.”

She turned her head to face the other direction and he got the message, the conversation was over. But he wasn’t ready for it to end so quickly. Her soft voice mesmerized him.

“Tell me about your father,” he asked.

The sound of the waves was his only answer.

After several long seconds, he caught the eye of the woman at Vega’s side and couldn’t miss the what’s-your-next-move-now look she gave him. Clearly he’d struck out with that line of questioning. Maybe if he gave something in return…

“My dad was in politics my whole life, but got serious about it when I was six. He had very strict rules about being a…” He paused, almost saying “being a Davenport,” but remembered just in time that they weren’t alone, no matter how much it felt as if they were. Vega rolled her head over to look at him and he finished, “about being a son of his.”

Her gaze flicked to the woman now working on his calves, and he could read what she was thinking. They needed to be careful or their identities would be figured out. He wouldn’t mind so much if that happened; he was used to it. But he had promised Vega anonymity. A nice tip would hopefully convince the ladies to keep any secrets they uncovered to themselves.

“What was that like?” she asked softly. “Growing up with him.”

He shrugged one shoulder, unsure why he’d even brought it up, but strangely wanting her to understand. Only, it sure would be easier to have the conversation if there weren’t two strangers currently in their presence. He nodded to the masseuse working on Vega, and she got his meaning.

Both women excused themselves, murmuring that they’d give them a few minutes alone.

“Thank you,” he said. “Ten minutes, please.”

They nodded and hurried away, then he rolled to his back and stared at the unflinchingly blue sky.

“It was like being groomed to be the next in a long line of perfect men. I wasn’t allowed to show the tiniest of weakness, even as early as six.”

She laughed. “I can’t imagine you not coming out of the womb with perfection stamped across your forehead. Seriously, weren’t you always this way?”

The words made him smile. He hoped she always thought him perfect. It was certainly easier than letting her see his flaws. “Afraid not, sweetheart, but I do work hard at it.”

She rolled over to match his position, and he turned to watch her movements. She’d grabbed the extra towel to drape over her chest as she flipped, and he let out a soft groan when he caught sight of it.

Light laughter floated up from her, and he grinned. He was fairly certain her breasts would be the kind of beauty that should be carved in stone.

“It sounds lonely,” she said, picking up on the truth of the matter far easier than he’d expected.

“Yeah.” He raised his arms and propped his head on his hands, suddenly thinking of his half brother and what the boy must feel like growing up with the same disorder he had. “But I had Cat. We were always close.”

“What about your older brother? Was he not groomed in the same way as you?”

He squinted against the brightness of the sun as he thought about the question. No, actually. Bennett had not been treated to the same “training” as he had. Maybe his parents had known from an early age that Bennett had been made for the army instead of Washington.

The ladies came back to finish the massages, and conversation drifted off as he and Vega relaxed under their skilled hands.

At the end of the hour, he thanked them and tipped them soundly. Then he was left with nothing but Vega and a long, glorious day stretched out ahead of them.

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his swim trunks and kept his distance from Vega. All that golden skin was beginning to wear on his patience.

“So what next?” he asked. “I’ll leave this one up to you. We have our pick. Horseback riding, fishing, sailing, swimming.” He winked. “Building sand castles?”

She turned from him to look out over the water, and a rightness settled deep inside him. He may have twisted her arm a bit to get her here, but he couldn’t regret his actions. There wasn’t another place on earth he’d rather be.

With a wide grin, she whirled back around. “Is there some place we could go parasailing?”

His brows shot up. “You’re an adventurous one?”

Her grin only grew. “It’s rare I get the opportunity, but yes. I do like my share of excitement.”

Then excitement would be the order for the day. He offered his elbow and gave a slight bow of his head. “Then come with me, my dear, and I shall make your dreams come true.”

A pure giggle erupted from her, and he couldn’t have felt more like a man.

V
EGA AND
JP had been shopping for the last couple of hours. They’d parasailed, jet-skied, and then toweled each other off after a quick dip in the ocean, and Vega was finding it harder and harder not to search for excuses to reach over and touch him. As it was now, she was picking through a bin of hats just so she could run her hands over his hair.

Coming up with a winner, she removed the cap he wore and replaced it with the stonewashed bucket hat. “It’s more exciting than this baseball cap,” she said.

He eyed himself in a mirror with distaste. “I don’t believe it’s my look.”

Vega raised her cell up in front of her to take his picture. They were goofing off more than shopping as they tried out unusual handmade items or local favorites, but she was having a great time. “Bring the strap around front.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” JP chuckled but did as she asked. The longer they’d played on the island, the more relaxed they’d both become.

When he had the strap sufficiently tightened under his chin, she snapped the picture, giggling at the face he made. Her own personal souvenir. “Take off your glasses for one.”

He did as she asked, and she captured another picture, this time with his eyes smiling at her in a way that made her all warm inside. She grinned at the shot and held it out for him to see before moving on to the next table. Although at first she’d been uncomfortable being out in public, she’d had more fun today than she could have ever imagined. And there was still dinner and the remainder of the evening to go. Going home today hadn’t been mentioned again.

“What’s good for the goose, you know.”

Vega slipped a lovely turquoise and lapis bracelet over her wrist and turned to see what he was talking about. He held up the tackiest pair of sunglasses she’d ever seen, his uncovered eyes twinkling at her, and waved the pink, blue, and green frames at the jewelry she’d just tried on. “It matches.”

She grinned. “And with the pink, they match my new bikini too.”

At the mention of her bikini, JP’s eyes heated and his gaze lowered to the pink, sequin-edged cleavage currently on display for all to see, but specifically for JP. She’d picked it out at an earlier store, deciding she wanted something a bit more revealing than the first swimsuit. She’d forgotten how much she liked looking pretty, and how she liked seeing appreciation from the male population. Although JP seemed to enjoy the view, he’d come across as surprisingly jealous, pulling her close or gripping her hand every time a local man had whistled his appreciation.

JP smiled at her when she slipped the gaudy glasses on her face, and brought out his own phone. Her heart flip-flopped at the thought that he might want a reminder of their day as well. She propped a hand on one hip and struck a pose, realizing too late that she’d pursed her lips and set her head in a long-forgotten way.

“Wow. Aside from the tacky frames, and the fact your hair is still hidden in a brutal ponytail, this is an awesome shot.” He held the phone out for her to see.

He was right. She still had it. Knowing the picture could always find its way into the wrong hands, she said, “I guess. We can do another without the glasses if you want to delete that one and try again.”

“Not a chance.” He yanked the camera out of her reach as if expecting her to grab it and run.

It wasn’t worth making a scene over. Plus, she liked knowing he had a decent picture of her in case he wanted to think of her after she returned home.

While she moved to a jewelry display at the front counter, he studied the picture again, tilting his head in concentration.

“You have a very natural grace about you, Vega.”

That’s what had gotten her noticed at sixteen. “Thanks.”

She tried on a couple things before putting them back. The jewelry from the islands was stunning, always reminding her of the ring her father had given her when she’d been a small child. A lovely aquamarine stone that in the right light was more like a pale sapphire, not unlike the waters edging the island. Her grandfather had given it to her grandmother as a wedding present. She’d gotten pregnant the night of the wedding, and had claimed from that day forward that the ring had mystical powers able to grant the wearer their greatest wish.

Never without it, Vega had worn it on a chain until she was old enough for it to fit her finger, only taking it off for photo shoots. She’d been almost as broken up over discovering she’d lost the ring as she’d been over losing Ted, but with the media hounding her, making her lie low, she’d accepted the loss as fate and given up on ever finding it.